Page 36 of Last Letters to Ara
“I had done my research and I had a plan, but I wanted to enjoy a beautiful view before I went through with it. That’s when fate stepped in, and I met Connor.” He smiles to himself. “He appeared from the shadows and said ‘Mate, what’s got you by the balls so bad, the look on your face makes me think they’re about to rip off?’ I couldn’t help but laugh because that’s exactly how I felt. Connor sat down next to me, offered me a cigarette, and for some reason I told a complete stranger exactly why I was sitting by that water.”
I stay silent, afraid he’ll stop, my heart squeezing painfully.
“Connor had been living on the streets after getting kicked out by his parents when he refused to go to medical school and wanted to become a musician instead. Having recently moved here from Australia after his dad was recruited to one of the top hospitals, Connor didn’t have anywhere else to go, so I offered him our spare room. I figured it was the least I could do for the guy who saved my life.
“Things were better for a while, and Connor became a friend. He encouraged me to find an outlet for what was happening in my head, and having someone else in the house curbed Dad’s drunken anger for the most part.”
“Is that when you began writing?” My voice shakes, heavy with the weight of everything he’s shared with me tonight.
Theo nods. “The reason I had always loved to read was because I could escape to any world I wanted, so I decided to try my hand at building my own, and began writing short stories. Mainly thrillers, but other stuff, too, when it came to mind.
Theo pours us both another shot. Taking advantage of the brief opportunity, my eyes roam over him again, seeing him in a new light. He’s been through hell, that I know. Yet, I can’t help the hope which fills my chest. Theo stared the chasm of darkness in the face when it was just a step away, as his trauma, given strength by the words contained in it, encouraged him to take that last plunge into nothing.
Except, he didn’t fall victim to the poisonous whispers of words once seethed, but decided to brave the journey back to the surface. Rather than letting his abuse become what would break him, he made it that whichempoweredhim. The very words his father used to ruin him became the catalyst which shaped his kindness. In his creativity, Theo found a way to heal.
And maybe I can do the same.
“The night of my high school graduation, my father came home rip-roaring drunk, totally out of his mind. He came into my room, just like the many nights which came before it, but this time was different. My father came in with the end in his eyes and began beating me to a pulp, saying, ‘It’s your fault’ over and over. I knew what he meant.”
My stomach roils, with sickness in a way I’ve never known.
“Connor heard the altercation and came to intervene, pulling my father off of me and fighting back until he left us alone. He still has a scar over his eye from coming to my defense because of the damage my father did to his face for doing so. Since I was in worse shape, Connor drove us to the hospital so we could get stitches. The story was that Connor backed me in a fight with some other dude over a girl at a bar.”
We both reach for another shot.
“The hospital kept me overnight after realizing that I was severely concussed, sporting several broken bones. Connor stayed with me the entire night on a crappy fold-out chair after telling the nurses that he was my brother. They released me the next morning, and it was the first time my father had left the damage in places that he could see once he was sober again. The first question out of his mouth was if I had given a statement to the police, not an apology or even checking to see if I was okay.
“As a thank you for not ratting him out for the domestic abuse, he got me and Connor our own place, paid for entirely until the day we decide to move out. To be honest, I never wanted to take anything from the man, let alone have any excuse to deal with him, but I wasn’t too proud to miss out on a chance for my friend to be able to pursue his music for as long as he needed without worrying about life expenses. So, we took my father up on his offer and moved out the same week. Connor and I have lived together ever since, and he is the only person I truly consider family.”
“He sounds like an amazing friend,” I whisper, the biggest understatement.
“He pulled me out of the darkest time in my life. Twice. He reminded me that there are things on this Earth left living for, even if I hadn’t found them yet.” Theo looks at me intently, then. “No matter how dark things are now, if you just keep putting one foot in front of the other, you will come out on the other side. Even if we have nothing else left in the world, we still have ourselves, andweare worth it.”
My eyes fill up with tears because I know exactly what he means. We both take a shot, this time in cheers to his victory.
“That’s pretty much the last of the depressing shit. Not sure I can stay upright if I have any more of those anyway,” he jokes, pointing toward the shot glasses.
I marvel at the fact that he can open up to me so easily, showing me all the pieces of himself, even the damaged and wrecked ones. He lays it all out for me to see and still finds it in himself to joke, to make me smile. Theo is the strongest person I have ever met.
It’s that moment where I feel it. A crack, straight through the center of the thickest wall around my heart, along with a realization. Every time I told him to leave me alone, it was a silent plea, a challenge, for him to be the one to break down these protective barriers I’ve so carefully constructed. And here he is, answering my call, seeing the girl who’s been hiding behind her ramparts for too long and coaxing her out.
Theo continues, “After moving out, I began taking writing seriously. I wrote my first full-length novel, which is a murder mystery. I believed in the piece so much, I sent it out to literary agents, publishers, and writing contests to try to get published.”
I can’t imagine having the kind of bravery to face that amount of potential rejection, hence why my designs are locked up in their little room like Rapunzel.
“I didn’t have any success for the first two years or so. Then, I guess you could say fate decided to intervene and I was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time and met someone who changed my life forever.” He looks at me, pausing as if he’s lost his train of thought. “God, you’re beautiful.”
A deep blush flows to my face, and I have to look away before the alcohol starts talking for me.
Theo clears his throat. “Anyway, this person was kind enough to call in an old favor and get my manuscript reviewed at a well-known publishing house for my genre. The moment they read it, they referred me to an agent they work with a lot and we drew up a contract. It will be released in a couple months.”
The news of his achievement frees me from my embarrassment caused by his words, which I’m pretty sure I dreamed up. “You’re a published writer!?”
“Well, technically it’s not publishedyet.”
“You found your happy ending.” Wonder fills my words.
“I’m pretty sure I have.” The way his eyes gaze into mine after brushing over my face, I’m no longer sure if we are still talking about his book. Warmth bleeds into me, along with the breed of confidence that brings trouble.
